


The Ashes of the Fire That Took My Home From Me Along With My Regrets

by Draikinator



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Depression, Divorce, M/M, Post-Series, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draikinator/pseuds/Draikinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denny needs relationship advice, Sideswipe is being petty, Russel is trying to grow up, Steeljaw wants to win-</p>
<p>and Bee wants to find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ashes of the Fire That Took My Home From Me Along With My Regrets

Denny hefted the last of the phone books off of the wagon and onto the pile with a satisfied grunt, before stepping back and brushing his hands off into each other.

"Is that all of them?" Bee asked, picking up the first one, flipping through it quickly- Denny knew sort of vaguely that the big yellow bot was processing the information, but he was flipping through the book so fast it was really difficult to believe that.

"All the ones I could find, anyway. Some of them are kinda old, and from other states and stuff."

Bee nodded, still flipping, "That's fine. Anything within the last twenty years."

Denny sat back on the wagon, leaning on his knees, "What are you looking for?"

Bee paused, looked at him, then looked back at the book, "Not what, who. Somebody I used to know."

Denny fidgeted, then picked up a phone book from the pile, flipping through it idly, purposelessly, "Somebody you loved, or...?"

Bee snapped the phone book shut, finished, and looked at him, optic ridges cocked, "That's a weird question. Why do you ask?"

Denny jolted, heat rushing to his cheeks, "Oh, uh, I dunno, just something I was wondering and all. You seem, uh, ya know. You seem kinda down a lot of the time, you just-" he stopped, shrugged, sighed, and plopped the phonebook back on the pile, "You act like I did when my wife left. Ex-wife. Right, uh, a wife is a-"

Bumblebee shook a servo at him and set the phonebook down on his other side, away from the main pile of books he'd not yet gone through, "No, I know. I know more about Earth than anybody else on the team, besides you and Russel, of course."

Denny smiled at the inclusion, "You never really told me about the last time you were here. Some kind of like, exploratory mission or something?"

"I wish," Bee snorted, picking up the next book, "War brought me to Earth."

"I don't remember any war."

"We put a substantial amount of effort into staying 'in disguise'," he chuckled, before softening, "And lost good people to keep our cover. We pretty much burnt Cybertron to a husk warring on it, and then the 'Cons- nothing like these 'Cons, organized, brutal, real killers- came here, and we followed. Optimus... Was real big on making sure we didn't let your planet go the way ours did."

Denny looked at his feet, scuffling in the dust, "Sorry, Bee, I didn't mean-"

"No, no, it's really alright. It was decades ago, now, I guess. We fixed Cybertron, went home, started rebuilding. Sideswipe and Strongarm never even had to see the war. Lucky kids, huh? I worry about them, though."

"I know how you feel, for once," Denny commented, "Rusty getting involved with all this alien stuff? It's scary. He's just a kid."

"When I was here last, I was just a kid. I was basically raised on this planet- I spent more time on it than I even still have on Cybertron. Maybe not, like, a kid in your years, but relatively, anyway, and I had this friend, right? Russel's age. He actually kind looks like him. Same brown hair and all. Same height, I think, or close, or whatever. Russel's a lot louder, though, but about as determined. And he got caught up in our war, and things- didn't go well. His hometown got nuked by the 'Cons, and he got shot once and I thought I'd lost him, and after our base got raided, we spent like a week stumbling through Colorado trying to find anyone, without food or-"

Bee stopped, because Denny looked horrified. He snapped the book shut, set it down and picked up a new one, "He's family. I need to find him."

"So... You did love him. In a sense. Do you guys- like your people-"

"Cybertronians."

"Do Cybertronians like, usually love, or is that just a 'you' thing since you were raised here?"

Bee narrowed his optics at Denny over the brim of the phonebook, "Is this about Fixit?"

Denny jumped, face flushing, "Huh?! Wha- n- what gave you that idea?! I didn't- um, I don't-"

Bee laughed, "Right, okay, I get what you're asking now. Yes, our species does have romantic attraction. No, our species doesn't have gender so don't worry about that stuff, I know humans are touchy about it- mm, also, I don't think he's realized this yet, but our species can detect Electromagnetic fields that yours can't. We tend to flirt more with those than with words, and he's been flirting with his field every time you're in sight."

"Oh! Oh." Denny rubbed his chin thoughtfully, standing up, "Huh."

Bee set down the phone book and picked up another one, "Let Fixit know I need him to finish that perimeter scan I asked him to run when you talk to him."

"I- right! Yeah, alright, thanks Bee!" Denny swung the wagon around, practically bouncing around the corner. Bee continued reading.

* * *

"Yo, can all humans do that?"

Russel rolled his eyes, "They're not even human. Humans aren't purple."

Sideswipe cocked an optic ridge at him, "How would I know that? And that's lame. How do you guys even tell each other apart if you don't like, paint your chassis or whatever? You change clothes like, every day, it's really hard to tell you apart."

Russel laughed and shoveled a handful of popcorn into his mouth, "I dunno, you all look pretty similar to me."

Sideswipe made a face, "Seriously?"

"I mean, not, like, Grimlock and Fixit or anything, but yeah."

Sideswipe shrugged and went back to watching the cartoon on the television. A small purple alien with a whip was fighting a white alien with a spear in a canyon, and Sideswipe was recording the white alien's moves, because they were smooth and cool and he wanted to try them later.

"Hey, speaking of Fixit," he said, leaning back on his servos, "Did your dad seriously ask him out?"

Russel fidgeted, crossing his legs, "I mean, I guess. I dunno."

Sideswipe frowned, "What's up dude? You okay?"

Russel made an exasperated noise before sighing, "No. Yeah? I dunno. It shouldn't bother me. Like, I'm glad he's happy and all, I just. I mean I guess I always kinda hoped him and my mom would get back together or something."

"Do humans usually do that?"

Russel picked at a stray thread on his sleeve, "Nah."

"Does that like, make Fixit your dad now too? Is that how that works?" Sideswipe asked, leaning over to mash the volume down button on the remote and Russel jolted.

"I hope not. I like Fixit, but I mean- gay alien robot space dad is like, kind of a bit much to handle. I don't wanna think about that right now. I mean like," Russel leaned on his hand and scrunched up his face in thought, "Could he be? I mean you guys didn't even know what a dad was when you first got here."

"Culture clash, eugh," Sideswipe sighed, slipping downward to lie on his back, optics shuttering, "Hey! Hold up, okay, we can just ask Bee. He knows all about Earth stuff and Cybertronian stuff."

"Yeah, Bee's like super old, right?"

"Some kind of war hero, yeah, but I never paid attention to old war stories, yuck. Yo, Bee!" Sideswipe said, tapping his comm online, "Where you at? Me and Russ wanna talk to you."

"I'm, uh, out. I'm on patrol." Bee's voice over the comm was staticcy with distance and Sideswipe tapped a pede impatiently.

"Yeah? Where at? We'll join you."

"...Uh... GPS says somewhere is Zacatecas."

"Zaca- what? Where is that?"

"Somewhere in Mexico. I got a little turned around a few hours ago, but I should still make it back to the rendezvous point by four."

"What?!"

"Fixit is gonna bridge me back at four, can whatever it is wait until then?

Russel stood up and waved at Sideswipe, who bent down near him.

"Dude, what are you doing in Mexico?"

"Research, don't worry about it. I left Fixit in charge."

"Fixit?? Seriously?? How come you never leave me in charge?" Sideswipe whined. The comm cut out and he pouted.

"I'd be better than that little jerk..."

Russel huffed and grabbed a pillow from the couch, hugging it against his knees and sitting on the ground beside Sideswipe, "Probably."

* * *

Fixit was starting to dig a tiny trench with his wheels, pacing in a circle in the scrapyard, chattering on to himself nervously. He looked up at the purr of engines outside the gate and gave a sigh of relief when Bee and Strongarm rolled in and transformed back to their root modes.

Strongarm stretched with a sigh, "Phew, long drive. That sure was a big recon mission." She said it proudly, only puffing a little bit.

"It was!" Fixit said, nodding, "A two hundred mile loop! I was starting to worry."

Bee snorted, digging dirt out of his shoulder wheels distractedly, "It's a good start, and you did a great job, Strongarm, but you've not hit the big leagues yet. When I was a scout, I used to run thousand mile recon runs. I had to keep energon in my trunk to refuel."

She gaped at him, looking like her tanks were turning at the idea, "Really?"

"Really," he said, "I'm gonna hit the washracks, I'm filthy. Nevada is so dusty." He started to step away, but Fixit rolled quickly in front of him.

"Actually!! Bumblebee, if I might have a heard- a bird- a word with you?"

Bee cocked an optic ridge and dropped his arm from his wheel, "Yeah, sure. Strongarm, you wanna go ahead?"

She appeared like she very much did and delightedly transformed before rolling back out and away toward the local car wash.

"Ah- okay, so, only, I was wondering, I suppose, since I think you would know better than anyone else, if, um, if humans, you know-"

"If humans what, Fixit?"

"I mean things with Denny Clay have been going very well, Lieutenant Bumblebee but I'm still not all there on human social cues but I think I know what I'm doing but at the same time-"

"Fixit, you're not going to ask me if they-"

"Do humans interface??" Fixit whispered, both servos pressed around his face like he could hide the words. Bee groaned.

"Primus, Fixit, why would I know that."

"Well!! Sir! We all know you lived here and you don't talk about it!! I don't know, but if anyone knew, you would know!"

Bee sighed, "Yeah, okay, yeah, they do, but it’s like, weird, and squishy, and whatever. Just look it up on the internet, Fixit. Don't give the computer any viruses, though. And try not to kill Denny, I finally got my side of the base set up exactly how I want."

Fixit practically vibrated, spinning in a short circle, "Oh-oh-oh, thank you, sir! I'll do my very test- crest- best not to do that! See you around then!" He said with a giggle, puttering away.

Bee sighed, and looked toward the direction of the washracks, before picking out another clump of dirt with one hand and activating his comm with the other.

"Hello, is this the Esquivel residence? I'm looking for- oh. No, sorry, thank you." He stepped around a shelf in the direction of his claimed spot, "Hello, is this the Esquivel residence?"

* * *

"Hey, Denny?"

Denny looked up, wiping the sweat away from his forehead with one glove, to see Bee standing beside the shelf he was reorganizing.

"What's up, Bee?" Denny asked, leaning back against the broken washing machine he'd just wrenched free from the clutter, "Need somethin'?"

"Actually, yeah- I was on the internet, and I read that sometimes your libraries keep records of print and local news that isn't online?"

"What, you mean like newspapers?"

Bee nodded, "I think so. I can't go in a library, obviously- If you aren't busy, would you go in and check for something for me?"

Denny blinked, "Sure, Bee, no problem, I gotta go into the city to pick up this awesome old pizza oven, anyway."

Bee winced, "Uh, actually. I need to check the libraries in Nevada."

Denny's eyes widened, "Nevada? Seriously? Why out there?"

Bee sniffed, shaking his head, "Nevermind, don't worry about it, I'll just call one of the librarians or something."

"Huh? No, I mean, if it's important, yeah, no problem- is it about 'Cons? Or-"

"Don't worry about it, seriously, no big deal, it's whatever. Hey! I think I hear Fixit calling you, better get on that. I'm gonna hit patrol, see you later!"

Bee transformed, and sped off faster than was really appropriate. Denny stood, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably and with concern.

* * *

Denny heaved one of the fence posts out of the pile and onto the truck with a grunt, shoving it into the back and turning to grab the next one.

"Are you alright, Denny Clay? Did you need any help?" Fixit asked, leaning out of the truck window. Denny waved a hand at him with a chuckle.

"Nah, Fixit, I got it. It's just a little heavy lifting, is all." He puffed up his chest dramatically and shot Fixit a coy look, "Gotta keep these pecs firm for ya, don't I?"

Fixit giggled and rolled his eyes, "Denny Clay, you know I enjoy your physical form no matter what your muscle density is!"

"Yeeeaah, but you're still worth impressin'," he said with a wink, picking up the next post and letting it drop into the back of the truck. "By the way," he said after a moment, "Maybe this will sound kinda weird but... Has Bee seemed kinda... Off to you lately?"

"Hm? Off? How so?"

"Oh, you know. Like, off." He pulled out another post, "Anxious, I guess? Distracted? I dunno."

"Hm... Actually, yes, now that you mention it, I would say something seems to be on the lieutenant's mind. I wonder what it could be?"

The proximity alarm went off.

* * *

"I dunno, Grim, like, I like the humans and all, they're neat, you know? But do you really think we oughta be, like, ya know, fraternizin' with 'em?" Sideswipe said, and buried his sword in the training dummy, before hopping back and away, brandishing it at the unmoving stump.

"Well, I think Fixit's happy and it's good to see the little guy in such a good mood. He lets me pick the tv channels," Grimlock said, picking up another canister from the spilled pile and stacking it upward, "And Denny's real nice and all, too."

"Yeah, maybe," Sideswipe said, though it didn't really sound like he was all that convinced. He buried his sword in the wood again with a sharp shhk, "I dunno. I guess it's just weird is all."

"I don't think so," Grimlock said, stacking the last canister, only to knock them all down again flinching when the proximity alarm blared through the scrapyard.

* * *

"Ah- so, wait, Commander Russel, if there is no port on this mechanism, how does one control it?" Jetstorm asked, turning the controller over in his servos curiously.

Russel took it back and held it firmly in both hands, pressing his thumbs over the buttons pointedly, "You use these. We use our fingers to press buttons to control the characters on screen. You get used to it."

"Interesting..." Jetstorm said, taking the controller back and holding it the way Russel had, "Okay, what training exercise will we be accessing?"

Russel shook his head and rolled his eyes, "It's not a training exercise, it's a game. It's just for fun. It's called Super Smash Brothers. Here, pick a- pick a character." He leaned his controller toward Jetstorm to show him how he was manipulator the select screen to choose Charizard. Jetstorm considered his options for longer than Russel wished he would, before selecting Lady Palutena.

He was showing Jetstorm how to jump to his utter delight when the proximity alarm rang and Drift came skidding around a corner with that look in his eyes that Russel hated.

* * *

Bumblebee rounded the corner, vents flared, pedes working overtime, to the source of the alarm, still blaring in his audials, a constant shriek that had him already in panic mode, blaster charged and armed. Steeljaw was perched on the edge of the fence, head cocked in that awful, pretentious way, claws digging into the wood to ground him-

and Vehicons were swarming the base, a few guards surrounding the group lugging away a stasis pod on one of Denny’s wheelbarrows. Bee felt his spark drop and his tanks turn, and when Strongarm rounded the corner behind him and raised her gun toward the closest one, he punched it out of her servo before she could fire or he could realize what he was doing.

“Lieutenant!” She cried, “What are you-”

“Don’t-” He cried, “They’re not- not- don’t-” Bee’s optics darted back to Steeljaw, “What are you doing!?”

Steeljaw shrugged and stretched, platelets fluttering, daring, “I found these poor, abandoned souls out struggling in the mines of the planet, surviving on scraps, and they, like I, are ready to take this planet as our own. We deserve a home, Bumblebee.”

Bee snarled, “You lied to them!”

“I would never lie, Lieutenant,” He purred darkly.

“Look- you- Vehicons, there’s- the war ended and we- there’s amnesty! Amnesty, we tried to- you can go back to Cybertron, you don’t need to join him-” Bee was scrabbling, desperate, and a shot from a Vehicon guard hit him square in the chest with an “Oof,” slamming him back into the dirt.

He had to reset his audials three times to get them online and not ringing, and when he finally looked up, blearily, like everything was in slow motion, Steeljaw was still perched, watching him, and Grimlock was crashing through the Vehicons, plucking them up away from stasis pods and Strongarm had fallen back next to him, firing into the crowd, and they were shooting back- Sideswipe was on the way down, sword half drawn-

Bee let the non-lethal blaster tumble from his fingers as his arm rose, transforming in a way he wished wasn’t so slagging familiar and popped off three shots at Steeljaw, who looked surprised the moment before the second one connected with his helm and sent him backward off of the fence.

Everyone froze.

Bee pulled himself to his pedes, and waited, arm cannon aimed, but Steeljaw didn’t resurface.

“This is the last time I’m going to make this offer,” he said, voice shaking, “Amnesty. Now or never. You can surrender, or I can arrest you.”

There was a long pause before one put up both his servos and sat down cross legged on the ground, “I just wanna go home,” he said, quietly.

The rest followed suit, but Bee kept watching the spot he’d shot Steeljaw from expectantly. He didn’t resurface.

“Fixit, take care of Sideswipe,” He said, dropping his arm, “Grim, go… check on Steeljaw.”

Grimlock nodded and moved for the door to go around. Bee let his arm transform back.

“Bee, did you-” Denny started, peeking out from behind one of the shelves, but Bee didn’t seem to be listening, and cut him off.

“Have any of you- You’ve been on Earth, right? All this time?”

The closest Vehicon nodded, “Mining for scraps, Autobot, not- Megatron said not to, you know. Continue the movement or anything.”

“What’s your name?”

“Radar.”

“Radar… Right. Okay. Have you heard from Soundwave?”

Radar shook his head, “I think he’s dead.” There was a quiet chorus of agreement.

“Did you… ah. You ever run into trouble with the US Government? Agent Fowler?”

Radar looked down thoughtfully, then nodded, “A couple times. The- Agent Fowler is the one Commander Dreadwing scanned for his altmode, yes?”

Bee didn’t even bother correcting him, “Raf! Raf, okay, have you seen Raf?? Is he with them?”  
  


“Who is Raf?” Radar asked, looked back at a Vehicon near him, who shrugged.

“He’s- little, he’s this little- pale kid, brown hair, brown eyes, he was like, this tall-” he lowered one servo about four feet off the ground, “but he’d be bigger now, like that one-” he pointed at Denny, “He wears glasses-in front of his optics- likes computers, he- he speaks Cybertronian, he’s good with groundbridges, he-”

Bee stopped, because they were all staring at him blankly without any indication of recognition, and he was getting louder, and louder with each word, more and more upset.

“Hey, uh, Bee? He’s uh… he’s not movin’...”

Bee hit his altmode and sped straight out of the scrapyard, tires shrieking.

* * *

“Here, if you reroute these wires, that diverts all the power from the auxiliary running systems to the security procedures.”

Denny nodded, taking the cableheads from Fixit’s servos and putting them into the jacks he was indicating. The projection overhead fizzled out, and the black security boxes spread about the compound booted to life with an audible hum, even from this distance.

“Well, that’s probably going to help,” Denny sighed, sitting back and wiping the blue-black grease from his hands, “But it’s definitely not going to compensate.”

“Not much I can do about that,” Fixit grumbled, picking up the sheet metal and replacing it over the databank’s power supply tower and moving to the side so that Denny could hold the power riveter in place, “He disabled his comm unit.”

“Do you think he’s alright?” Denny asked, quietly.

“...I hope so, Denny Clay, but none of us have heard from him in a week, and- there’s only so much we can do. I’m really not cut out to be the leader. No one here respects me.” Fixit sagged against the sheet metal, shuttering his optics, and Denny set the riveter down, scooting over to Fixit and clasped their left hands together, tapping their foreheads together and running his right hand along the orange cheek of Fixit’s faceplate.

“Hey, hey, don’t talk like that. You’re a great leader. You’re doing your best, and your best is all you can do, right?”

“Is it good enough, though?” Fixit said, morosely.

“We’re not dead yet,” Denny said, pulling back and picking up the riveter.

* * *

Russel swung his legs back and forth under the table, watching the Vehicons with interest.

“Whadya think they’re doin’?” He asked, leaning to the side to look at Sideswipe, who was sitting on the ground to be conveniently eye level with the little human.

“Huh? They’re probably laying out that perimeter scanning stuff Fixit made. The power strip thing they’re supposed to bury?”  
  


“No, I mean, like, here. Do you think they actually switched sides, or like, do you think they’re planning a revolt or something?”

Sideswipe snorted, “Strongarm thinks they’re waiting for an opportune moment. But hey, with Bee gone, that seems like now, honestly. If they were gonna, they woulda. Besides, Grimlock changed sides. They’re probably fine.”

Russel thought about it a moment, “I think I changed my mind about my dad.”

Sideswipe frowned and gave him a look, “What? Why?”

Russel picked up his legs and folded them against his chest, “The last time I saw him smile like he does around Fixit, me and him and my mom were at this aquarium. It’s like, a building with all kinds of exotic fish from all over the world together so that you can see them without going all the way to where they live and stuff. And we’re there, and we’re looking at the jellyfish, and I was just a little kid, but they both held my hands and my mom told some joke that made him laugh, and then he smiled at her like that.”

Sideswipe was silent.

“And I guess I just… kinda forgot what it felt like to have a dad that was that happy. Like, there’s a kind of safety or whatever, in that. You know?”

“No,” Sideswipe said, looking back at the Vehicons.

* * *

Radar was adjusting the stacking of the stasis pods for what felt like the hundredth time that day- they’d brought in a new prisoner recently and no matter how many times he reorganized the pods and the human debris camouflaging them, he was never quite satisfied. TIC Soundwave never would have approved of such shoddy work, even if this disorganized mess of a team didn’t much seem to care.

It really wasn’t that bad here. Regular energon rations, no one really seemed to care what he did with his time- and hey, no beatings. It was a pretty nice gig. If only everyone wasn’t such a downer, though.

“Are you really doing that again?” Radar jumped at the tiny organic's unfamiliar voice, low on his right and looking at his handiwork.

“Huh? Oh, uh. Yeah, I just, I mean. Gotta get it right, you know?”

“I don’t think it’s really a big deal, I mean, ‘Cons are just gonna find them next time they raid anyway. They always do.”

Radar would have frowned if he’d had a face.

“...Alright, if you say so.” The little organic couldn’t possibly understand this situation. Its tiny brain couldn’t comprehend what it was talking about.

“Do you wanna play Super Smash Brothers?” It said, looking up at him with a grin.

“...Uh… Will it hurt?”

* * *

Russel leaned against Sideswipe’s passenger window, pressing his nose to the glass, “Yeah! There. that’s it.”

“Wowee,” said Sideswipe, pulling up onto the end of the path and idling, “Okay, Bee was right. That is beautiful.”

“Sure is!” Said Denny, stepping out and stretching, flipping his sunglasses off of the top of his head and over his eyes, “It’s the ocean. It’s kinda one of earth’s big things, huh?”

“Ahh, the sweet smell of dimethyl sulfide,” Fixit said, hopping onto his wheels and spinning over to Denny, one servo unconsciously grabbing his hand, “It really is sight- fight- quite lovely.”

Radar transformed before Sideswipe, and Russel shot him a double thumbs up, ripping off his shirt and running for the water.

“I don’t get it,” He said after a moment, looking at Sideswipe, “Do they want to rust?”

Sideswipe transformed, sniffing, “I dunno. They’re not made of metal, I think they’ll be fine. The sand’ll be fun to test out the four wheel drive on, but I’m gonna need one heckuva shower when we get back to base.”

Radar felt uncomfortable being the only Vehicon who had wanted to come on this trip to this supposedly deserted beach, but he stepped out onto the sand anyway with only minimal trepidation.

“I’m just worried about everyone else back at the scrapyard. Isn’t it dangerous to leave them?”

“We can bridge back in if we need to,” Sideswipe said, digging the tips of his pedes into the sand, “This is like, a morale thing. Everybody needs a break sometime, or you’ll go nuts.”

“...Nobody talks about the guy who left,” Radar noted, and fell silent when Sideswipe went rigid.

“...Yeah, no. We don’t. He was under a lot of stress. He’s… fine, though. He’s always fine.”

“I know. I tried to kill him a few times. Didn’t do so good.”

Sideswipe was silent, and the atmosphere was heavy.

“No, I guess not. He’ll be back. When he feels like it,” Sideswipe said, before breaking out into a run down the beach after the others. Radar followed at a steady pace, thoughtful.

* * *

  


Radar checked his radar, turning against the air current. The winds weren’t good today, the clouds grey. He suspected the effect the blast this place had taken from the activated Cyberlock had left a long-term environmental disturbance- web reports were pulling up indications this region always looked like this, grey-white with death and harsh winds.

He dropped his altitude- the old Autobot proximity notifier built into his radar was still functioning, despite its age- jerry rigged technology Knock Out had made that the Autobots wouldn’t have. It took a little educated guessing and a lot of flying, but it was going off, red and hot.

He hit the ground with a thump on his pedes, ash stirred up and clinging to his joints.

“Bumblebee?”

Bumblebee didn’t seem to react, but it was definitely him. He was a black and yellow urbana sitting in the wreckage of a town in Nevada giving off an Autobot locator code, even with his comm unit off, he wasn’t difficult to identify.

Though he was starting to collect a pretty disturbing coat of dust.

“Hey!” Radar repeated, “That’s your name, right?”

“Go away,” the Urbana said, “You’re interrupting my power down.”

“What?”

“It- slag, nevermind.”

He transformed, shaking the dust out of his joints.

“We’ve been trying to keep the base together, but nobody there really seems to have any idea how to lead. Like, anything. They just keep saying that’s your job. And listen, I know you’re having some kind of breakdown, or-” he paused, wincing at the careless vocab choice, and by the look Bumblebee was giving him, he hadn’t missed it, “or whatever, but I gotta tell you- I really like this whole not being cannon fodder thing. I really like this whole steady food thing. And it’s all kinda falling apart, and-”

Bee sighed and leaned forward onto his servos.

“Yeah… okay, yeah, I know.”

“Did you, uh… find what you were looking for?”

Bee stood up. "No. There's nothing. It's like the moment we left the planet he stopped existing. They all did. Fowler's dead, and Miko, and Jack and... And Raf, are just. Just gone. Like they never existed at all."

Radar shifted uncomfortably, "Maybe they died?"

"There's no obituary. Humans do that, you know. They have this, like, paper news cortex, and when one of them dies they make a note of it. There's nothing. Actually, we- when he was still going to school, Ratch helped him with this science project and his volcano blew the roof off the school, and they- ha, they, they put that in the papers, too." He stopped, then kicked over a brittle, crumbling signpost, crunching it beneath one pede, "That's gone, too. The whole paper from that day is missing from every library I called. Just. Gone."

Radar watched him, before opening his commline, "Fixit, sir. Requesting groundbridge to rendezvous coordinates 37°07′N 116°03′W."

If Bumblebee had heard him, he didn't react.

"He's probably dead, assuming I didn't hallucinate his whole existence," he said, quietly.

The groundbridge roared to life, green and swirling, familiar in an achy sort of way Radar didn't like.

* * *

Bee watched the flickering of the sunlight shimmer off the tessellating fractures in the mirror leaning against an old water heater in the scrapyard. A few unfamiliar colours, and there he was.

Optimus.

"I did it," Bee said, tanks turning, "I stopped the great threat to Earth."

Optimus shook his head, "Steeljaw was not the great threat to this planet, Bumblebee. The other Primes have assured me it still comes, that Earth is still at risk."

"What?! No, I- I took him offline, though, it has to be-"

"It was not, Bumblebee."

"I... If it's not- look, Optimus, if it's worse than that- we have to let the human government's know."

"Bumblebee, you know as well as I that we cannot allow innocent humans to be harmed in our battles."

"No, I know, but Optimus- look, the, I get why we had to stay in disguise to keep the Decepticons from coming out into the open, too, and then because they weren't ready but this- we have to give them the opportunity to defend themselves, don't we?"

Optimus shook his head slowly, deliberately, "The humans stand no chance against us, Bumblebee, you know that. You've seen it."

Bumblebee's hand clenched at his side, trembling, "Optimus- they're not- they're not weak. Or fragile. You know that. We never would have won the war without them."

"It wasn't out place to involve them to begin with."

"They were involved though!! And they are now, more than ever! You keep saying some great evil is coming that threatens this planet and every life on it! And you don't think any of those seven billion lives deserves the opportunity to protect themselves?!"

"They cannot."

"They deserve the chance! This isn't our planet, Optimus, and we- we don't get to make decisions for it!"

"Do you plan to contact the Earth authorities?"

Bee stopped, and stared at the ground, "Will you hate me if I do?"

"I could never, Bumblebee. Though I strongly advise against this action, it is your decision to make, as I will not be there to assist you with the fallout."

Bee was silent, and when he looked up, Optimus was gone.

* * *

"Hey, has Bee seemed kinda... Off, to you lately?"

Strongarm glanced up at him and away from the book she was reading, slowly, at almost a human pace, "Huh? Well, yeah, actually. The Lieutenant has been acting... Strangely ever since he got back. He's been pretty short with me."

Sideswipe snorted, "He's always short with you."

"Is not!" She looked flustered, before taking a calming breath and looking back at her book, "He's been so much more serious than usual."

"He's upset," said Russel, clambering up onto the pinball table next to Strongarm, stacked with novels. Sideswipe blinked at him.

"About what? Steeljaw? That was like, nothing, though. I mean, he fought that whole war. No big deal, right?"

"I think he's upset about a lot of stuff, but he doesn't really talk to anybody, you know?" Russel said, crossing his legs. Strongarm doggy eared her book carefully and placed it on top of the stack.

"He can always talk to me. We're in the same squad, you know."

"I don't think he's talking to anyone. My dad says that if you bottle everything up inside, you'll blow up like a molotov cocktail. Kaboom." He made a gesture indicating an explosion with his hands and Sideswipe frowned.

"Which one?"

Russel cut him a sharp look that Strongarm quickly followed suit on.

"Whatever. Be that way, Swipe." He climbed down from the pinball machine and stomped away.

"Nice going," Strongarm hissed, before pushing herself to her pedes and following him.

* * *

Bee was having difficulty focusing.

He was shifting his weight between his pedes anxiously, platelets jittering like a nervous newspark. He'd been very careful with his selection of teammates he wanted to take to meet the US Government delegates they were sending to speak to him today. They hadn't been difficult to contact- far easier than he expected, anyway.

He'd told Drift his selections had been based on experience, but really, he'd just opted to leave the kids at home, because he didn't fancy the idea of putting them further in danger. Not more than he already had.

And so it was just him and Drift and Fixit and Grimlock, standing in a line and trying to resist dropping into their altmodes.

The plane that landed was nearly silent; an impressive improvement to the human technology Bee had become accustomed to. Once it had landed, a side door opened almost seamlessly, and a clean shaven human that Bee estimated to be in his upper mid thirties, with slicked back black hair and a suit. It was the sunglasses that really made the whole thing too men-in-black, though, and Bee couldn't withhold a chuckle.

"Hello," he started, trying to compose himself, "I'm-"

"Bee!"

Another human scrambled haphazardly off the plane, and ran straight at him past the black haired one. Bee started to take a step back, but froze when his optics actually hit the human coming for him and his red framed glasses and messy brown hair.

* * *

“Mr. Clay,” the black haired man said, and Denny offered his hand to shake, and the man grinned but didn’t take it, “Are you the only human the Autobots have contacted?”

Denny nodded and let his hand drop, “Oh! No, sorry, actually, my son, Russel, here, too. Russel!” Russel stepped out from behind Sideswipe and toward the man, but Sideswipe sidestepped quickly in front of him, and Russel paused. Sideswipe folded his arms over his chest and eyed the human with distrust.

“Apologies,” the agent said, “Of course you’d express caution,” He took off his shades and folded them, stuffing them smoothly into his pants pocket, “I’m supposed to tell you to call me Agent RC, but Jack is fine.”

“It’s good to meet’ya, Jack,” Denny said, and his hand twitched like he wanted to offer it again, but didn’t, “You can just call me Denny. And this here is Sideswipe, Strongarm, Grimlock, Drift, Jetstorm, Slipstream, and my partner, Fixit.”

Jack’s eyes snapped to Fixit, who had rolled up next to Denny and waved, but his body language remained casual, “Partner?”

Sideswipe leaned down, “They’re in cahoots. Ya know, like, romantical. Problem?”

  
Jack laughed and shook his head, and Russel looked up at him, beaming, but Sideswipe didn’t seem to notice.

“No, no, I just wanted to clarify. It’s good to see Autobots again, I was starting to think I was going to be a desk jockey for the rest of my life.”

“So, Jack,” started Sideswipe, “Who exactly are you?”

“Field agent for the interplanetary relations department. It’s one of those secret ones we’re not supposed to talk about, but what are they gonna do, fire me?” He rolled his eyes, “I’m here with Agent B. That’s Bee’s old partner.”

Sideswipe narrowed his optics, “Old partner?”

Jack’s eyes darted only briefly to Fixit, “Strictly platonically. The Autobot/Decepticon war was a big thing on earth when we were kids.”

Strongarm finally had her fill of silence and practically bounced up to join the conversation, “You were a part of the war?!”

Jack blinked at her, “I take it you weren’t?”

“No, no, no way,” she laughed, embarrassed, “That was all before I came out of the Well. I’ve read about it, though!”

Jack’s smile tightened, “Are you implying you were.... born, so to speak, within the last twenty years?”

She nodded.

“...I see. I suppose I’m older than you, then,” he said, pulling his shades back on and slipping them over his eyes, “We’ll need to do some debriefing, if it’s alright- we lost all contact with Cybertron a few decades ago, but most of that we’ll leave to Bee, I suppose. He’s a very trusted contact. A few questions, though, while Agent B and Bumblebee are having their, moment, or whatever- why a scrapyard?”

Sideswipe opened his mouth to answer, but Fixit waved a servo exuberantly, “Ah! The prison ship I am caretaker of crashed there, and Denny Clay was happy enough to assist us by providing the grounds as a base of operations.”

“Is there anyone else on this planet? Autobots? Decepticons? Optimus? Arcee?”

“Well, I don’t know who Arcee is, but all of our Autobots car- far- are here. You met Drift and Grimlock at the rendezvous point, and the rest of us are here, but there are a plethora of

Decepticon prisoners escaped from my ship loose in the area,” said Fixit, and Jack frowned.

“And Optimus Prime is dead,” interjected Strongarm, and Jack froze.

“Optimu- Optimus is dead?” Jack said, all professionalism lost, and even in his tailored suit and behind his dark glasses, he suddenly looked like a frightened child playing grown up. Strongarm flinched back, obviously uncomfortable.

“Um, sorry, um. Yes, he’s- for awhile, now, actually, since the restoration. Since before I came from the Well.”

Jack’s knees buckled and Denny and Fixit moved back, startled as he went shins-first to the ground.

* * *

Bee was leaning over the platform like a needy puppy, arms crossed under his helm, optics wide and moist.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” He said, as he kept saying.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” Raf mirrored, legs crossed, hands on his knees. He was trying not to let his eyes wander to admire the shelves and shelves of stuff in the junkyard, but it was difficult. Sensory overload.

“Have you been eating right?? You look thin- how’s your heart? No long lasting effects from the dark energon, right?? Have you been-”

“I’m fine! I’m fine, Bee,” Raf laughed, scratching the back of his head, suddenly cognizant of how messy his hair really was, “Yes, I’ve been eating, Miko does nearly nothing but berate me about how I don’t eat enough, and I’m a government agent, I have regular health checks. I’m fine.” Bee looked relieved, but still worried, “What about you? How have you been? Fueling properly? No long term issues with the synth-en, right? Bee, you’ve been keeping your transformation seams clean, right? I know you hate scrubbing them, but if you get something caught in there you know it will break off a-”

“Okay, I won’t lie, no, I’ve absolutely been neglecting that.” They both laughed, and Bee’s optics softened, “We lost contact with Earth, and they wouldn’t let me go home. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but then I stumbled back here through- and I- as soon as I set foot on this planet again, I knew I was home. And I… I couldn’t find you. I was starting to think I was nuts, like you weren’t ever real.”

“They scrubbed me when I joined the agency,” Raf sighed, “They were pretty thorough. In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best idea. I was actually starting to think the same thing- like maybe the whole war was some kind of mass hallucination, that we were all delusional. I couldn’t think of any reason why you wouldn’t have come back, if you were real.”

“I wanted to!” Bee blurted, “I tried! But they kept shoving laws and regulations in my face like they mattered, and then they locked up all the space bridges, and- I tried. I tried. I didn’t try hard enough but I tried. I’m sorry.” His voice was barely a static whisper, and Raf scooted forward to pat him on the arm.

“I don’t blame you. Scrap happens. I missed you.”  
  


“I missed you, too.”

“I see you found some Vehicon scragglers. I’m glad- the last few decades have mostly Bee trying to round them all up. We can’t really send them home- no space bridge, but Soundwave- oh, scrap, right. We pulled him out of the Shadowzone early on, by the way, and with his help we’ve been working on a new spacebridge to send all the abandoned stragglers that want to go home, home. The Vehicons are big fans of stickers. I brought some, by the way, I assumed the crew we were meeting out here were Vehicons, I didn’t know it was going to be you-” he rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a pad of dinosaur stickers.

“Wait- Soundwave?” Bee said, flabberghasted.

“Yeah, Soundwave,” Raf laughed, “He’s really not all that bad, once you get to know him. He just really seems to want to go home. That seems to be it, though. He’s as quiet as ever. Likes chess. And the Vehicons.”

Bee leaned forward on his arms again, letting his optics shutter, “I’m glad I didn’t know that. I would have spent the last twenty years terrified of what he’d done to you.”

“I can understand that.”

“I kept thinking that if enough time went by, it would hurt less, but it didn’t. People used to tell me what it felt like, when their spark brothers died in the war- like having half of yourself ripped away but you were still standing. I kept thinking it was like that. I didn’t say so, though, that would- I guess that would be rude. I dunno.”

“Ha. I actually- kind of the same thing. I guess I didn’t realize it until after you were gone, but, I mean, you know I was never very close to my relatives. They weren’t- family, you know? You were family. Like the brother I wished I’d had. Except you could turn into a car and shoot lazers from your arms.”

Bee laughed despite himself.

 


End file.
